


Professors Need Coffee Too

by cloudcloakedwords



Category: Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 04:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19845328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudcloakedwords/pseuds/cloudcloakedwords
Summary: A short drabble about Professor Piper and her interactions with Cath and Levi.





	Professors Need Coffee Too

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Fangirl is one of my favorite books, and I read it when I'm feeling down. This is my very first fanfiction, so I'm sorry about all my bad writing. Constructive criticism and other comments would be greatly appreciated!

With a heavy sigh, the sheath of papers and the red pen she had been twirling next to it drop onto the desk. It’s a shame, she thinks, but it must be done. Even though Cath Avery is undoubtedly one of the most talented students in her class this year, she can’t make an exception. She can tell Cath has worked hard on the story; however, the inexcusable use of Gemma T. Leslie’s characters still outweigh a well-written plot and witty dialogue. Professor Piper might be old-fashioned in some aspects, but she is certainly aware of the most successful book series in the last twenty years. And if she accepts Cath’s work, no doubt she’d be dealing with all sorts of other fanfiction the next time she sets an assignment—anime characters, Disney characters, all sorts—and it would all go downhill from there.

She has to call Cath in. Talk to her. Break the news.

And when she takes off her glasses later that day, the girl with the messy bun sits across from her blurs, a hazy image. It might be the cowardly thing to do, but it feels more manageable when she can’t see Cath Avery’s eyes when she tells her that the form of writing she was most about wouldn’t be acceptable in her Intro to Fiction-Writing class. She tries to soften the blow, but it doesn’t stop the look in Cath’s eyes. Doesn’t stop the flush from leeching from her cheeks, doesn’t stop the nervous fidgeting of her hands. And it certainly doesn’t stop the sinking feeling in Professor Piper’s chest as Cath leaves, shoulders drooping. The squeaking of Cath’s Vans echoes down the too-quiet English department. And long after it stops, Professor Piper still hears the sounds of rubber scraping against smooth tile.

_(Professor Piper orders a triple-shot espresso at Starbucks that day from that smiling boy with the wide forehead.)_

Love Library was rather unfortunately named in Professor Piper’s opinion. She stumbles past at least three couples making out between the shelves on her way to find a book recommended to her by a fellow faculty member. She’s already played the Strict Professor card twice tonight, and she isn't looking forward to doing that again.

A sudden draft sets her shivering despite the cardigan enveloping her; the library could do with some extra funding to put some heaters in the sub-basement. Goodness knows that the university could redirect some money from refurbishing the teacher’s lounge for at least the third time in a decade to making sure their students didn’t freeze to death. She turns the corner, narrowly missing hitting her elbow on the sharp edge of a shelf full of Orwell’s work, only to find two of her students huddled over a notebook.

Cath Avery and Nick Manter.

Bumping elbows and passing the notebook back and forth, blue and green ink spreading slowly across the lined paper. Professor Piper can’t hear what they are saying from where she stands, half-hidden in the shadows, but she can see the movement of their mouths.

Professor Piper smiled to herself. She is glad that two of some of her best writers were friends—she can see their styles leaking into each other’s writing sometimes when she read their assignments. Two completely different people, but complementary. But maybe Cath needs that right now. She had seen the look in Cath’s eyes when she left her office a few days ago—a little wild, a little defeated—and it had made something in her gut twist.

Unfortunately, it’s part of her job to do things like this. As much as it is encouraging aspiring writers, sometimes she needs to be real with them too. She can only hope that Cath hasn’t lost her love for writing, and looking at the two of them, squabbling and pulling the notebook back and forth, she can see that Cath Avery is still very much a writer.

And later, when Professor Piper leaves the library at far too late an hour, she sees Nick Manter, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, walking briskly off to the right. At first, she thinks Cath must have already left, but out of the corner of her eye, she sees Cath, looking far too small in her oversized down jacket, standing next to a lamp pole and eyes pinned on Nick, who is soon engulfed in the dark. Professor Piper casts a glance at her car, parked just around the corner, and decides to stay in the doorway.

She debates asking Cath whether she needs a ride back to her dorm, but she gets the feeling that she isn’t exactly who Cath wants to see right now.

Soon, a vaguely familiar boy in green jogs up to the lamp pole, leans against it, and when the yellow light hits his face, Professor Piper sees the boy with the sunny smile that never gets her Starbucks order wrong. Even from a distance, she can see the corners of Cath’s mouth quirk up, and when they walk off together in the direction of Pound Hall, she hears peals of laughter.

Professor Piper unlocks her car and slides into the driver's seat, smiling. Then she cranks up the heat because Love Library really is far too drafty.

_(When she walks into Starbucks the next morning, she sees the boy, blonde hair sticking up, making a gingerbread latte.)_

She leaves the weekly conference for the English department late, she hurries down the corridors to her office, shoes clicking on the floor.

A left, and then a right, and then Professor Piper sees the boy sitting on a plastic chair outside her colleague’s office, slouched and head resting against the awful salmon wallpaper. She wants to stop, to check if he’s okay, because okay people aren’t supposed to look like they haven’t slept in a week, and neither are they supposed to have eyes that resemble a zombie’s, all bloodshot and swollen. But she has a meeting with Cath, and she’s already late.

Instead, she offers a quick word of advice, “Professor Keaton will be here soon. The staff meeting went a bit late.”

He looks up, and offers her a half grin as if even his supply of smiles has been exhausted.

“Thanks,” he says softly, and Professor Piper walks ahead, opening her office door and slipping inside. The door closes, and the sound drowns out his voice when he finishes his sentence, “But I’m not waiting for him.”

Cath fidgets with her hands as she talks about her short story assignment from last semester and why she never turned it in. She doesn’t want to fail Cath on this assignment, but if the girl won’t write anything but fanfiction, there is nothing she can do about her grade. The Inc. will turn into a letter that will no doubt make Cath even more frazzled than she seems now, and Professor Piper definitely doesn’t want her star student to have a nervous breakdown.

She brings up Nick Manter and his final assignment, hoping to cheer Cath up by reminding her just how much she contributes to the lives of people around her, but she can see the faraway look in Cath’s eyes. The girl sitting across from her has already drifted away to some distant land—nowhere near her seat across the desk from a gray-haired professor.

The only replies she gets from Cath are short, and it’s obvious that her heart isn’t in the conversation. Professor Piper sighs, offers her a chance to make up her grade, and then Cath is out the door.

“Cather, I’m sorry. Just hear me out, okay?” She sees the young man through her half-closed office door, hand nervously running through his hair.

Cath just shakes her head and pushes by him without a word. He moves as if to follow her, taking a couple of jerky steps, and then collapses back into his chair like a marionette with cut strings. Professor Piper tip-toes from her chair to the door, closing it softly. But before she does, she catches a glimpse of shaking shoulders.

_(She goes to Starbucks later that day and spies a cup with “Cather, please forgive me” scribbled on it lying on top of a half-eaten Blueberry Bliss bar. Professor Piper was not aware that Starbucks sold those. As to whether she’s referring to the apology or the energy bar, even she’s not sure.)_

The semester is nearly over, and she can’t wait to have a whole two months for writing. But first, she needs to grade the finals that her students finished earlier that day. And she’s hoping that she’ll have something else to grade as well: Cath Avery’s story.

As silly as it is, her fingers are crossed as she waits in line at Starbucks. Today is the last day that Cath can turn in her story, and Professor Piper prays to whichever deity or all-powerful being that’s out there that she’ll find a document sitting in her inbox later today.

She stares at the paisley scarf that is wrapped around the neck of the woman in front of her—all swirling motifs and bright colors—and jumps a little when someone calls her name. She adjusts the straps of the heavy tote that hangs on one shoulder, stuffed with procrastinated essays no doubt written by heavily-caffeinated students and exams with lots of crossed-out words. It’s been a rough week for her as well; the end of the semester is never smooth sailing, and she desperately needs a shot or two of caffeine.

The cup of steaming coffee is awaiting her in the hand of the boy that had sat crying outside her office all those days ago. Professor Piper hopes that he won’t say anything about it to her because she has no idea what she’d do if something like that came up in conversation. Instead, she nods a little, takes her coffee out of his hand, and briskly walks towards the door.

She stands out there in the sun for a little bit, taking careful sips of scalding coffee, even though the hot air that slams into her the moment she steps out of the air-conditioned building implores her to do so somewhere else. The straps on her shoulder start digging in painfully—who knew that paper and a few staples could weigh so much?

A lone bench sits by next to the expanse of glass that serves as the front of the store, and she decides to sit there instead. She unslings the tote from her shoulder and sets it on the wood after she flicks a bug away. Springtime in Lincoln brings warm weather and lots of critters, and Professor Piper isn’t sure if she likes that better than bitter winds and snowstorms.

But a pair of students stroll down the path that winds down to the Starbucks through a couple of closely-placed dorm buildings, all beige paint and brown brick and dirty windows. They’re engrossed in conversation, the older girl gesticulating widely with her hands, and the smaller one nodding in agreement. Too far away for Professor Piper to see them at first, but as they come closer and closer, one girl taking lengthy, confident strides and the other hurrying a little further behind, she recognizes one of them. That Simon Snow graphic tee is impossible to miss, even at this distance.

Cath.

“Did you write it?” Professor Piper wants to run over and blurt it out. But the scowl on the other girl’s face deters her from approaching the two, and she decides it’s better to stay put on her bench. The glass door emblazoned with the double-tailed mermaid swings open and then shut, bell tinkling. The bug flies back onto the bench, and this time, she’s too lazy to shoo it off again.

Professor Piper drinks the last of her coffee, and sits there for a few more minutes, silently debating whether to take the empty paper cup with her or to risk going back inside and throwing it away there.

She ends up walking in, opening the door slowly in an effort to keep the bell from announcing her presence. A futile effort.

The bell still rings, but luckily, Cath Avery is too busy smiling at the tall boy with the fluffy hair to notice.

Her friend does though, and the girl makes eye contact with Professor Piper—a steady gaze of acknowledgment. Professor Piper looks away first, and hurries out the door, grabbing her tote bag from the bench. She smiles to herself on the way out.

_(When Professor Piper unlocks her office door, she finds a short story lying on the ground. She whoops a little bit and sinks into her chair to read it, eyes already half-way down the page.)_


End file.
